


Broken Rules

by ishiptheships



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: "let's fuck without feelings HAHAHA OOPSIE", F/M, HINT of possible polyamory bc hilda has two hands but never acted upon, Pining, Post Timeskip, Relationship Development, Unresolved Romantic Tension, everyone is bi, haha what if we cared about each other genuinely and loved each other jk....unless?, if you say the l word i'll k word you, in which they kiss but then it all goes down hill from there, pre timeskip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-10-30 00:56:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20805842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishiptheships/pseuds/ishiptheships
Summary: Hilda and Claude tiptoe around their rules they have for each other.Hilda POV.





	Broken Rules

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this bc sure they're friends but they're also in love.
> 
> basically claude is a leo sun gemini moon and taurus rising w a taurus venus and hilda is an aquarius sun gemini moon and libra rising with a cancer venus y'all can't convince me otherwise i'm right
> 
> Not beta'ed just me reading this damn fic over and over to try and catch mistakes but i'm not perfect. 
> 
> enjoy

Claude had shown up to her door, wine casket in hand, and a grin on his face. It was after hours—curfew had started at least two hours ago—and Hilda knew Claude enjoyed wandering around after dark. There was always something to find out after hours.

She had the quickest heart attack after hearing someone shuffle outside her dorm room door. She caught her breath after she had heard his voice, soft but excited. 

“Hilda!” Claude had peered into the crack of the door after she unlocked it. His hair was windblown and there was a glint in his eyes that she could even see through the dim candlelight. “Are you decent?”

She couldn’t help but smirk. “I’m always decent.” She swung the door open and closed the door behind him as he immediately sat on her floor. He wasn’t wearing his uniform this time, which told her he had been in his room before going on his nighttime adventure. He wore his loose cotton shirt and linen pants that were tucked into his boots. He had a heavy-looking satchel by his side. “What did you bring this time?” He had done this before. They spent many a night chatting, gossiping, _planning_.

“I took _this_—” His eyes had wandered to her hands, which held the metal-cornered book from the library. “Were you going to hit me with that?”

“Safety. I’m still a lady, you know.” She had sat down next to him and shoved him with the cover. “I still might, so don’t do anything funny.”

Her response had been met with a snicker as he pulled out the wine casket from the satchel and handed it to her.

That was about an hour ago. Hilda quickly learned that she could drink more than him despite her size. His head landed on her shoulder as he talked about his theories about the Church, muttering to himself about how in _hell_ he could find out the truth.

He was frustrated. They spent dozens of nights with each other—Claude showing her information from books he took from the library, Hilda telling him what she found out through the grapevine, both of them deciding what their next moves were to be. It was here, in her room, that she found out who he really was: insanely smart, a quick thinker, crazy creative, and full of mystery. It intrigued her. After a while, he told her who he was—how he was from Almyra, how people hated him because of his mixed blood. He was so nonchalant about it, but it rubbed her the wrong way, and she slowly realized that he never really had friends growing up. Maybe it was too narcissistic of her to think so, but she might have been his first best friend. So she humored him with his schemes and listened to him when he needed her. It helped that he was kind of cute as well.

But there was an unspoken code between the two of them. They were _friends_—best friends. She knew he knew that she kissed other people. She recollected him telling her he wasn’t the least experienced either. He would kiss Dorothea or Sylvain. He would even express interest in Edelgard if Hubert was out of the picture (Hilda doubted that ever happened). Hilda kissed a good population of their class. But _never_ someone she actually cared about. Not her _actual friend. _

Yet he was there, looking up at her with those deep green eyes, like peering into the mouthpiece of a glass bottle. How could she resist? Her drunk brain certainly told her not to.

His small braid brushed her hand as she held his face gently as she had leaned in. She didn’t even want to open her eyes to see how he was reacting. Was he shocked? Was he into it? She doesn’t remember him reaching for her, even when she deepens the kiss.

The next morning she doesn’t even remember when or how he left. She just remembers what she did and she kicks herself for being so. Damn. _Stupid_.

**…**

Hilda took the pipe from Sylvain’s hands, smacking his fingers as they tried to reach out for it again. “You’ve had enough, lightweight.”

Sylvain whined and leaned back against the wall of the greenhouse where they propped open the window so that the smell of cannabis would drift out. She took a hit and passed on the pipe to Dorothea, sitting at her right.

They were all dressed in formal uniforms, much to Dorothea’s dismay (she wanted to wear gowns), for the ball that night. But this wasn’t a special occasion. They met up in the greenhouse every week or so to either drink or smoke and chat.

“So, Sylvain—” Dorothea said, speaking as smoke drifted from her lips. Hilda was instantly taken back to the several times she and Dorothea would smoke and make out behind the Cathedral. Dorothea has a way of touching and kissing her that makes her shiver and groan into Dorothea’s mouth to not alert the guards. “—do you have any plans on who you’re going to dance with?”

“Mm…” Sylvain opened his eyes. Hilda almost busted out laughing at how red they are—probably the reddest she has ever seen them. She also gets high with Sylvain and hooks up with him once in a while. It took a while for him to think. “Can I be honest?”

She and Dorothea exchanged looks. High Sylvain means honest Sylvain. Honest Sylvain can be…kind of sad.

“I kind of don’t want to dance with anyone. You know they’re all there to chat to eventually secure bonds to marry a crest-bearer and have crest-baring children.” He ran a hand through his hair.

Hilda took the pipe from Dorothea again.

“Goddess, I’m high.” He sighed, leaning his head against the stone wall.

“We know, sweetheart.” Dorothea quipped, giving Hilda a quick wink.

Sylvain opened his eyes to fixate on the large flowering plant to his right. “I made out with Claude again a couple nights ago.”

Hilda rose her eyebrows. Claude hadn’t told her that when he was with her last night. She hoped Dorothea doesn’t notice that. She could feel his lips on hers still, and she hates how it affects her: how he would hesitantly kisses her jaw with a sort of shyness that isn’t characteristic of how he acts when he flirts with her (or anyone else) in the monastery halls, how his skin flushes under her touch, how groans lowly against her lips. He’s nervous every time—and she can tell because his hands always pause before touching her—but once he does, his hands are strong at her sides as they press into her skin through her loosened shirt. This happens more often than she would like to admit. 

Not that it mattered though. The first time they kissed, they were drunk. He leaves her with a small smile and their nighttime scheming sessions still happen…just sometimes they make out after. No big deal right?

“He’s cute. I guess maybe I would ask to dance with him.”

Dorothea looked amused. “Do you have a crush?”

Sylvain thought for too long. Probably because of the high. “A little? But I have crushes on everybody.”

Hilda doesn’t know what compelled her to lean in and kiss Sylvain deeply. After all, she was high too. He reciprocated, obviously.

Dorothea could read the room well. “He didn’t tell you that, Hilda?”

“Why would he? He can do what he wants.” She giggled into her hand. “We’re just friends, Thea.”

Dorothea exchanged looks with Sylvain, who is too high to even notice. She sighed. “Well, he and I’ve been together before as well. He’s a little too shy for my liking. Like, he doesn’t initiate.” She grabbed a lock of Hilda’s pigtail and started playing with it. “But, he is a noble and it doesn’t get to his head. That’s refreshing.”

“Exactly.” Sylvain nodded.

Hilda thought about the people she’s been with, which is a lot. She’s kissed a lot of people. She wondered how many people Claude’s been with. It doesn’t help how her gaze travels to Claude unconsciously, even in most crowded room. 

“What about you Hilda? Who would you want to dance with?” Dorothea asked.

Hilda yawned. “Not sure. I’m not interested in all that dancing to be honest. I kind of just want to eat dinner and go the fuck to bed.” She paused. “But I guess if someone asked me to dance, I wouldn’t say no.”

“Well, I would want to dance with the two of you, so save me a dance.” Dorothea leaned in to kiss behind Hilda’s ear.

“Ditto.” Sylvain said in response.

Hilda finished the pipe and breathed the smoke in Sylvain’s face with a laugh before standing up. “I think it’s about time to go.”

She and Dorothea helped Sylvain up and they all casually to the hall together. Hilda spritzed her perfume on all of them to mask the smell.

…

She followed Holst into the conference room, and they take a seat in the spots reserved for Goneril representatives. She caught eyes with Lorenz and his father, sitting close to the head of the table. They nodded at each other, and she gave him a small wink and a gesture that sort of went “I like your hair”. Lorenz’s expression softened and worded a small “thank you” before turning back to his father.

She hadn’t seen most of the nobles who went to school with her in years. She had seen Marianne about a year ago. They had started a relationship with each other for a few months but something with poor timing and long distance didn’t sit well with the two of them. Deep down, Hilda also didn’t necessarily believe in a goddess either, which she felt was too big of a difference between them. The von Edmunds sat across from her. Marianne wasn’t one of the two representatives today, but that was expected; she didn’t necessarily like the grin and grip of these bureaucratic meetings.

Lysithea was the only one to represent the von Ordelias. They were still recovering from the attack from the Empire years ago. Hilda couldn’t imagine doing everything she and Holst were doing by herself. Not to mention, years younger than she was. She sat directly to her right and they shared a grin together. Ordelias, ever since their loss of power, would normally not be at these meetings. But Claude was the Leader of the Alliance now and he insisted on every house having a say. Especially when the von Ordelias aligned themselves with the Empire.

How democratic. How like him.

Other houses filed in and took their respective seats. Hilda stifled a yawn just as she noticed everyone stand as the door opened a final time. She followed suit, straightening her skit.

Claude walked in with Judith von Daphnel, both talking lowly and seriously about something. Claude noticed everyone standing and quickly waved them at ease. “Everyone relax, please.” Hilda took her seat again. Did his voice get deeper? She couldn’t remember.

Over the four years that had gone by, his face changed. His jaw was framed by the line of hair that creeped towards his chin, his hair longer and less unruly (shame, that was cute), his eyebrows thicker. While his hair was neater and pushed back, a small strand of hair misbehaved and fell into his eyes. Hilda noticed the same small earring that hung from his left earlobe. That made her smile.

The next few hours were typical. Things got heated between the von Riegans and the Gloucesters, both sitting on Claude’s left and right. With the power of the Empire rising, tensions in the room were high. Holst gave a report on the state of Fodlan’s Locket. There were talks and debates of trade, politics, and international relations. Bored, Hilda found her eyes wander toward Claude when she couldn’t keep her attention. He leaned into the conversation, and when deep in thought, he would bring the side of his gloved index finger to his lips and furrow his brow. He spoke with a lot of hand movements that still reminded her of their days in the Monastery. She found herself smiling and snapped herself back to the conversation. What was she doing?

Once in a while, he caught her eye and something would brighten in his face. She would make small gagging face whenever the Gloucesters would mention how we should tighten security at Fodlan’s throat and he would have to suppress a smile. She also noticed how when she turned her attention away and looked back, he would still be looking at her from across the room. Then her eyes would catch his and he would quickly redirect himself onto whoever was speaking. Had he always done that? She couldn’t remember for the life of her.

When the meeting finally ended, Claude was quickly surrounded by the leaders of the houses to discuss their individual concerns. Hilda didn’t know how he did it. Being so accommodating must be so tiring.

Eventually, everyone filed out and they were the last in the huge conference room, finally able to rid themselves of the formalities and the titles. His posture relaxed and he ran a hand through his hair.

“I don’t know how you do this.” She said from across the room. “I’m just exhausted watching you do all of this.”

Claude closed his eyes and tilted his head up to the ceiling. “It’s not so bad when you’re working towards your goals.”

“You’re sure closer to it now. The big man on campus.” She smiled coyly as she walked up to his seat at the head of the table. She already told Holst that she would meet up with him tomorrow. Holst knew that they were the closest of friends and that they would want to catch up. Although, he gave her a long speech about drinking alcohol before agreeing to let her stay.

He had grimaced, slouching back in his chair with a huff. “Ugh, please don’t call me that.”

She perched herself on the edge of the table just to his left. “Whatever, Mr. Leader-Man.” She fake imitated him, lowered her voice almost comically, and bounced her shoulders from left to right. “I’m Leader of the Alliance, I’ve got a huge dick, blah blah blah.”

That got a snicker out of him. When he stood, she finally came to terms of how much he changed; his shoulders were broader, his waist smaller (or maybe it was the proportion that made it look the difference), his hands larger as they gripped the arm rests of the large wooden chair as he rose. War had changed him. He was the same height, but his stature was different. Hilda found herself looking up at him, trying to keep her cool. She was suddenly _very_ aware of how small she was.

Fuck.

He smiled. Up close, he looked tired. There was darkness under his eyes. She didn’t catch that from afar.

“I missed you, Hilda.” He took her hand gently. His gaze fell to his hand holding hers.

_Fuck_.

…

She’s beside him in bed, his head tucked underneath her chin. His hand is tangled up in her long hair, the other wrapped around her bare waist. His arm was so long, it could encircle her torso easily. She tried not to think about that too hard.

It took almost no time at all to fall back into old habits; sneaking into Claude’s room like they did as teenagers, walking fast, making jokes and quips along the way. As soon as the door closed behind him, she was on him, untying his sash around his waist, hands wandering up and down his torso before she ran a hand to the nape of his neck, into his hair and pulled him down into a kiss. They were a jumble of furious kisses and hastily taken-off clothes, before she had him on his back on the bed. It was a larger bed, nothing like the skinny, lumpy beds they had at the Monastery. He was still shy as if he had never felt her up before. His hands still hesitated before touching her.

“You can touch me, you know.” She had said with a scoff. Her blouse was already half off her shoulders.

“Yeah, but are you sure?” That was new. He never said that before.

She raised her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“I mean—” He paused and she watches his Adam’s apple rise and fall as he swallowed. His hands lingered on her thighs as she straddled him. “—Our different standings. You’re a lady.”

She was almost offended. “And?”

“I’m Leader of the Alliance.”

“Dammit, Claude, I thought you didn’t like those flashy titles.” She leaned down to look at him face to face. She lay on top of him like it was nothing. Back then, he would have complained. She tucked her forearms underneath her chin and looked at him. “Don’t take this the wrong way. We’re just friends having a good time. Just like we did before.”

She felt him straining as he leaned up to kiss her. His lips still felt the same as they did years ago.

“I just wanted to make sure.”

“You think anything’s gonna change this?” She pointed to herself, to him, then back to herself again. “Puh-lease.” She flicked his forehead before shrugging herself out of her blouse.

Not that Hilda had sex with a lot of people before. She only fooled around a bit in school, mostly making out and jerking people off, and after she graduated, she went back to Goneril and was pursued by a few suitors. She had a good time then too, mostly fooling the men that she was a virgin (except for the first time—she pretended she was experienced as hell). And she loved having sex with Marianne. That might have been the best. But if she had told herself she was going to have sex with her _best friend_ back a few years ago, she would have laughed until she peed.

Now, Claude breathed wordlessly into her neck and she felt the rise and fall of his back as her arm rested there. His skin was warm against hers. She felt his thumb rub her bare back as he held her. It was surprisingly comforting. After sex, she had never been held like this before, at least by a man. She breathed a small sigh and buried her nose into his hair.

Pine. He smelled like pine trees.

He looked up at her. It was the look he usually gave her right before he was going to leave, but there was a sort of seriousness behind it. Anyone else probably wouldn’t have noticed it. But she knew how his mind worked. She could clock his antics from a mile away. She knew that his face would read one thing, but his eyes would say another.

_He_ could probably figure out that she was scared. She didn’t want to admit it, but she felt it in the pit of her stomach. Hilda was a good actor. But, if you’re holding each other naked, there’s not a lot of room to hide.

She brushed her fingers over the hair at his jaw. He leaned into her touch. “You should stay the night.”

That was also new. Some things do change. He _always_ left her afterwards.

Hilda rolled her eyes. “Holst will be looking for me tomorrow morning.”

“That’s tomorrow morning.” She felt his grin on her neck. She felt his arm tighten around her waist to run his fingers through her long hair.

“Yeah he’s going to be looking for me _in my room. _I need to get back to my room.”

“I thought you hated moving around.” She could feel a laugh rise from his chest. “Lazyass.”

“I’m going to push you off this damn bed.” She pulled back from him with a scowl. That pulled the laugh from him. She grumpily rolled over to the other side of the bed and huffed, stealing all the blankets along the way. The bed shifted as he followed her, laughing lowly, and hugged her from behind. She felt a small kiss on the back of her neck that sent a shiver down her spine. She hoped he didn’t notice that.

She didn’t even remember falling asleep. It was as if she blinked and suddenly, the sunlight from the window hit her eyelids and she opened them up blearily. She felt an arm around her, knitted blankets and furs warm around her body, and with a sudden realization, she sat up with a gasp.

Hilda cursed under her breath and held the blanket to her body as she started to peer around the bed for her clothes. Shit, what time was it?

She looked down at Claude next to her, his arm draped over her lap. Hilda hadn’t seen him sleeping in a long time; it just wasn’t something that he did often at the Monastery, and it’s not like she was _in _the situation to see him sleeping when she was younger. And every time they hooked up, he left, after all.

He looked so peaceful. When she looked at his face, she realized not a lot had changed: he still had those scruffy eyebrows, a strong bridge that lead to his nose, and his hair was messy again. She wondered how long it would take for him to tame it in the morning. She reached out to brush her fingers through his hair.

His eyes opened as she combed his hair from his face. The morning light made his eyes look even brighter than usual. “Are you looking at how pretty I am?” She could hear the smile in his voice. His voice was low and scratchy from sleep, something that Hilda had never heard before.

“You idiot, I’m making you presentable. You’re a mess.”

“Like you look any better.” He reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

He returned to stuffing his face into a pillow as she ran her fingers through his hair one last time before shifting to get out of bed. Hilda felt his arm tighten around her hips.

“Claude, let me go.”

“Mm, I don’t think so.” She felt his cheek against the side of her hip. How endearing. Hilda almost didn’t want to leave.

“I’ll sit on your face, asshole, if you don’t let go.” She looked down at him with disgust.

He peered up at her and grinned. “Please, do.”

She groaned and pried herself from his grasp. Since when did he get so damn cocky? She took the blanket with her to wrap herself decently as she fished around for her clothes on the floor.

“I’m cold, fuck.” Claude huffed into the bedding, on his stomach. He reached for a pillow and hugged it, watching Hilda retrieve her clothes and slowly put them on. She let her eyes wander over the curve of his shoulders, down his back, and bare waist. She suddenly remembered last night, how her legs had locked around that waist, her hands pressing into that back. She swallowed. Sheesh, what the hell happened in four years? He was so such smaller back then.

“Well, too bad. Didn’t you say I’m a lady? I can’t be indecent in front of the _Leader of the Alliance._” Hilda waved her hands and deepened her voice sarcastically. She buttoned up her blouse and pulled up her skirt before tossing the heavy blanket back at his face. “_You_ should cover yourself up more. Do you walk around the estate like that?”

He just laughed into the blanket. “No not usually.” His hair fell into his face. She tried not to look too hard at the expression on his face, his eyes bright under his dark hair.

His eyes didn’t leave her as se was finishing putting on her shoes. Before putting her hair up, he spoke again. “It’s been four years.”

She smoothed her ponytail and looked back at him.

“Yeah, it has.” Hilda always knew what to say, but now, she was careful with her words.

He reached out to her. She let a breath out her nose as she stepped towards him and took his hand. Their fingers intertwined.

“Do you think Teach is dead?”

Hilda thought for a little bit. “No.” She looked him in the eyes. “Do you think Rhea is dead?”

Something steeled in his gaze. That was more familiar to her. He swallowed before taking a breath. “I hope so.”

Well, that was that.

She was about to pull away from him when he spoke again. “Is it going to be another four years before I see you again?” There was a laugh in his voice, but his eyes said something different.

Hilda looked away and focused on a little spot on his cheek. “Well, at the very least I’ll see you at the Monastery next year.”

Claude watched Hilda carefully, his lips parting as if to say something before closing it again. He squeezed her hand before letting go. “See you.” He grinned. “Have fun doing the walk of shame.”

Rolling her eyes, Hilda made her way to the door. “See you.” She blew a small kiss. Claude caught it and pretended to throw it out the window with a laugh before she left the room. Hilda caught a glimpse of the look he gave her before she opened the door. Something about it pressed against her heart. Eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed, she closed the door behind her with a huff and straightened her skirt and collar. Let’s hope Holst hadn’t come to her room yet.

She walked quickly, saying hello brightly to any Alliance member and advisor that she passed by. She didn’t want to seem too suspicious, but she really hoped they didn’t notice she was wearing the same clothes as yesterday. An oversight at the expense of her decisions last night.

Something didn’t sit well with her. She usually didn’t regret her hook ups, even the ones she had with Claude back when they were at school. But something about this time was different. She could feel his presence with her even as she left. Her heart was beating so fast that she thought she might pass out. She waved hello to Nardel, the regent of the von Riegans. He was probably going to go check on Claude. She hoped he wouldn’t put two and two together.

Maybe if there was a time to regret something, maybe now was the time.

Jogging to her hallway, she muttered a curse as she saw Holst walking up the opposite direction. She planted a smile on her face. “Hi, Holst, ready to go?”

“Yeah, I was just about to check on you—” Hilda breathed a sigh of relief. “—are you ready?” He looked at her skeptically.

“I was just taking a morning walk. You know, do my rounds to say goodbye.” Hilda vaguely remembered not having packed. “I’ll just need a few minutes.” She walked up to her room door.

Holst looked at her up and down. “Sis, didn’t you wear that yesterday?”

“Oh, I—” Hilda let out a nervous laugh.

“You smell like pine trees.”

…

Hilda shouldered her axe and looked up at wyvern flying above her. Claude pet the wyvern anxiously as he watched the battle ensue around them.

A year had past before they saw each other again. She met up with the rest of the Golden Deer at the Monastery and surprisingly, the Professor was there too. She knew in her heart that the Professor would show her face again, but her timing was impeccable—as always. It was nice to see Ignatz, Raphael, and Leonie again; all the nobles seemed to have lost touch with them because of the war.

Now they were back on Gronder Field. If there was a goddess, she was especially cruel.

“You’ve got blood on your right cheek.”

She looked up again to see Claude call down to her. He pointed to the spot where she apparently had a blood splatter. She wiped it with her sleeve. Her gloves and clothes were already covered in blood.

Hilda spotted an archer, taking aim for the wyvern that shouldered Claude. With all the effort in the world, she ran and swung her axe, cutting them down. She could taste the blood in her mouth as it landed on her face again. 

It was funny how so many of the Imperial soldiers would target her because of how small she was. Or how pink she was. Apparently, they hadn’t heard of how she took half an army just by herself, Claude protecting her back. Then again, if you’re dead, there’s no way to spread the news.

She held Freikugel in two hands, watching the metal glow a hot orange. No matter how much blood was shed, the metal never stained red. 

An arrow whizzed by her and landed in an Imperial soldier’s chest. She always admired Claude’s deftness and accuracy. Sometimes he would flick his arrows up in the air before catching them and landing a shot.

The wyvern roared. Hilda couldn’t tell how much time had passed. It was like time was infinite. More than half her battalion was gone, and it seemed like the rest of the Alliance wasn’t doing well either. Leonie’s horse was getting tired, Ignatz was running out of arrows, Lorenz’s arms were starting to shake from the weight of his lance. She charged forward.

Soldiers dressed in both Imperial and Kingdom armor charged in their direction. Hilda couldn’t really remember the details. All she remembers is killing and more killing.

Suddenly everything was on fire. The soles of her boots started to melt and she could have sworn she got a burn on her shoulder. She was forced to retreat, Imperial forces at her heel.

She hit the mud next to the flaming hill, her legs giving out from exhaustion. She looked up to see an armored soldier with an axe raised above her. She felt her life flash before her eyes. 

An arrow lodged itself into the eyehole of the soldier, but the axe fell down on her anyways. She cried out as the axe hit her torso. 

She clutched her chest and stomach, feeling blood seep through her clothes and onto her hands. Her cry in pain was delayed. Her lungs couldn’t get enough breath. Maybe it was punctured. Blood was pooling out of her mouth. She was dying.

Hilda could heard Claude’s voice as if underwater. She couldn’t figure out what he was saying until he was next to her, cursing wildly.

_Fuck, shit—MARIANNE! _He tilted her head towards him, and all she could do was stare. His face was fading in and out. She was feeling her vision blacken.

She felt another set of hands on her. Marianne? Thinking was too hard.

_Hey, hey, hey, focus on me. _Her head was moving side to side, but she couldn’t feel his hands on her face. _Don’t die on me. Focus, Hilda, look at me. _

There was a flash of light and Hilda instantly felt better. Breathing felt easier, her feeling returned, and she saw both Marianne and Claude above her. Claude was rummaging through his pockets before he took out a vulnerary. He pressed it to her lips.

Swallowing was hard so Marianne pinched her nose and shut her mouth and forced it down her throat. Hilda gasped for breath. All she tasted was her own blood.

She felt herself getting lifted from the ground. She reached for her axe.

“I’ll get it in a second.” Claude said as he ducked the wing of his wyvern, which was doing an extremely good job defending the two of them and Marianne, who was starting to catch up with the rest of the Alliance army. Blood dripped from its jaw. Hilda wanted to throw up.

He patted the wyvern’s side and it immediately kneeled down to their level. Claude lifted her. She forgot how small she was. “Can you get on from here?”

She nodded weakly, using the last of her strength to swing her leg over the wyvern’s back. Her face planted against the white scales and she groaned to herself. Ooh, she was getting nauseated.

Claude jogged over to grab her relic, grabbed its hilt, and tucked and strapped it to the saddle. “Fuck, Hilda, that’s heavy as hell. How do you wield this thing?” She felt him behind her.

She closed her eyes and swallowed. Her mouth was dry. “What do you mean? I can barely carry that thing.” She croaked. Gods, she sounded _awful_.

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, you’re talking. That’s good.” He pressed his chest to her back as he patted the neck of the wyvern. “C’mon, Barb. Let’s go.”

…

Manuela shook her head. “I cannot believe you got hurt like this. I’ve always said war is unnecessary.” She tilted a glass of water to Hilda’s lips.

Hilda drank gratefully and placed her palm to her forehead. Her head throbbed.

“You’re feverish. Probably fighting an infection.” Manuela said empathetically. “You’ll have to be here at least until you break the fever. And you’re not going to fight for at least a month.”

Hilda sighed and stared out the infirmary window. It was dark outside, now, the moonlight mixing with the three or four candles lighting the room. As much as she hated fighting or putting in the work, it didn’t sit well that she couldn’t help and this was out of her control. She itched her skin through the multitude of bandages wrapped around her stomach and chest.

Manuela smacked her hand lightly. “Stop that.” There was a knock at the door and she stood. “You’ll irritate the wound.”

Hilda leaned back, eyes closed, and held her head as she heard Manuela open the door. “Ah! Claude.”

Her eyes snapped open as she saw Claude standing with Manuela at the far end of the room. He wasn’t in his uniform, but in his linen shirt. There was a different sash on his waist than what he usually wore. His hands were stuffed into his pockets, his stature much more relaxed than when he wore his uniform. It reminded Hilda of five years ago. Even his hair resembled how messy it was years ago.

“Do you mind if I speak privately with Hilda, Professor Manuela?” Claude asked.

“Privately!” Manuela was already headed out the door. Typical. “How scandalous. Is this a lover’s meeting?”

Hilda groaned and Claude laughed. “Hardly. I came to check on my best soldier.”

He was met with the door closing behind him. He shook his head. “She always tries to make things seems like something they’re not.” Claude said turning to Hilda. “You look awful.”

“No thanks to you.” Hilda turned to him. She smiled back. “You weren’t worried about me, right?”

“Never.” He smiled as he sat down in a chair next to the bed.

“You should have seen your face!” She laughed and then groaned, clutching her stomach. “Fuck, I’m going to have an ugly scar, huh. How unladylike.” She sighed. “I won’t ever find a husband—”

“Hilda.”

The seriousness in his voice made her stop and look back at him. His arms were crossed over his chest, his eyebrows furrowed together. “Please be more careful.”

Hilda chewed her lip. So it was going to be _that_ kind of conversation. “Claude, there wasn’t anything I could have done, I was tired—”

“—I know, which means you need to pull back. Not push forward.” He took a breath. “You are my strongest fighter. I can’t have you die when I need you.”

Hilda looked down at her hands, which still had blood caked under her fingernails. Gross. She chewed her lip.

“If I wasn’t there, you would’ve died—”

“There are plenty of other wyvern riders in our army.” She said pointedly. “Even Pegasus knights. Cyril or Seteth—”

“They were busy with the Kingdom’s soldiers, Hilds—”

“And you told me to stick by you, and you said I’m you’re best fighter. What are you trying to do, protect me? You know how many I’ve killed for you.” Hilda snorted. That seemed to strike a nerve in him because he wasn’t looking at her now. “I know I come off as lazy, but you of all people should know who I am, Claude.”

His eyes blazed as he looked back at her. “You acted recklessly—”

“I acted as I normally would. Why are you acting like this? This is so unlike you,” Hilda let out a sharp laugh, which pained her but she kept going. She went for the most ridiculous thing she could think of. “What are you, in love with me?” Hilda narrowed her eyes, but she as soon as she said it, she bit her tongue.

Claude took a deep breath through his nose. He held it.

Too low. She punched below the belt.

“Sorry.” Hilda pressed her lips together. “Sorry. I just—”

Claude closed his eyes.

“—I made it awkward.” She really hoped Manuela wasn’t eavesdropping on them. Hilda could probably bet she was.

Claude laughed shortly through his nose. He opened his eyes again. “Yeah, you did.”

Silence fell between them.

“So…Barb.” Hilda started to pick at the dried blood under her nails. “It’s name is Barb?”

“Barbarossa.” The tension almost immediately lifted in the air. If there was a goddess, Hilda thanked her. “Her name is Barbarossa. She’s a sweetheart.”

“So…you nicknamed her Barb.”

“Or Barbie if I’m feeling extra affectionate.” He cracked a grin. “She’s a good girl.”

“_Barbie_.”

“Yeah.” Claude snickered. “It’s cute, huh?”

“Wyvern’s aren’t cute, Claude.”

“Cuter than you.” Claude reached into one of his pockets and held something so small in his hand, Hilda couldn’t even make out what it was. “Well, anyway, I came for another reason besides to check on you.”

“Ah, so you _do _want to admit your everlasting love for me?” Hilda managed to flip her hair over her shoulder. She hoped this joke would land better than the other. “I only knew it was about time, Claude.”

Claude shook his head, but laughed at her in disbelief. He tutted. “Hilda, Hilda, we’re at war, be serious.” Hilda could breathe a little.

“Ooh, says _you. _I’m _super _serious.” She laughed gently behind her hand. She didn’t even know why she was laughing. This was just ridiculous. She almost died and accused him of being in love with her. This was absolutely absurd. “Soooo serious.”

He was grinning along with her. He took her hand that was covering her mouth and held it. He held her other hand as well. “Wait—” He was laughing too now. “—I’m actually trying to be serious, stop laughing.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Hilda coughed out a final laugh and finally looked at Claude in the eyes. Her gaze also followed down to their joined hands. He would do this when he actually wanted to be listened to, back when they were students.

“Hilda, you’re my most trusted friend and my aide.”

“I don’t remember being an aide, officially.” The corner of her lip turned upwards.

“No, don’t start laughing again, I’m being serious!”

“Okay, okay, sorry.” She gulped her laughter and locked eyes with him again. He was so close, their foreheads were almost touching.

“You probably know me more than anyone else.” His eyes were paralyzing. “You understand my ideas first, you make sure everyone is in line while I’m not there, and you make sure there is enough supplies for everyone. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re indispensable.”

Hilda had never seen him so forthright before. It almost made her uncomfortable how intimate this was.

“Yeah, of course I’m indispensable. I bend over backwards for you, even if I—”

“You need to promise me two things.” This was probably the most grave she had ever seen him.

“Of course, Claude.”

“You need to promise you won’t die.”

She blinked at him before responding. “Claude, I—”

“Remember when we were students, and we would talk and drink in your dorm?” His grip on her hands tightened. “You said that you didn’t understand why people would die for the sake of others in a war. You would just save yourself.”

Hilda blinked again. She would have never expected him to remember that. “Yes, but I was younger and more naive—”

“I want you to not let go of that. That includes dying for my sake.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off. “Let me finish saying everything. Second—” He pressed the small thing in his hand to her palm. He lowered his voice. “If, goddess forbid, the Empire ever gets you, drink this.”

Hilda brought the small vial of clear liquid in her hand to eye level. She instantly knew what it was.

“Claude, you can’t be serious.” She whispered.

“I’m dead serious.” He furrowed his brow. “It has to be known by now that you’re my right hand. If you are in a position where you cannot come back to the army, the Alliance, or m—” He stopped himself. Clearing his throat, he continued. “It should be painless and quick and they won’t suspect a thing—”

“Where the hell did you get something like this?” She looked at him in disbelief.

“I made it.”

Of course. He was smart enough to do that. She took a breath. “Have you tested it on anything?”

“I found some mice. I didn’t enjoy doing it, but it had to be done.” He grimaced. “They fell asleep and never woke back up.” He tucked his hand into another pocket of his and pulled out another vial. “I have one too. Just in case.” He put it back into his pocket.

She raised her eyebrow, letting silence fall between them. She thought for a second and then said, “Mice are much smaller than people.”

“Not much smaller than you.” He breathed a small laugh before getting serious again. “Promise me.”

“I—” Why did she feel like crying?

“_Promise me._”

Hilda gripped his hand tighter. “I promise.” He was so close to her, she could see the individual freckles spotting his nose. She never noticed them before. The darkness under his eyes was as prominent as ever; she guessed it was from the lack of sleep and amount of stress he was under. Gods, imagine every decision you make determines who lives and who dies. This war was going to kill him. Her eyes wandered towards his lips. It took the small amount of self-control that she had to not lean in. All she could smell was pine.

_Oh gods_, what the hell was she even thinking? They didn’t kiss unless they were taking off each others clothes. She pulled away from him and looked down at her hands again, fingernails caked with blood. She felt Claude’s hand push back her bangs, and press his lips to her forehead.

Before she could register what had just happened, she saw him wave from the door. “See you.”

“I—Bye.” She pressed her hand to her forehead.

Before Manuela came back in, she tucked the vial of poison in the folds of her bandages.

…

Hilda was nodding off at the large counsel round table, a sketched map in front of her. She didn’t even want to think how late it was—the fact it was dark and the candle light was the only thing that illuminated her work attested to how past her bedtime it was.

She was still healing. There were bandages under her clothes, which made her blouse feel tight and uncomfortable. She _could_ go back and change into something more comfortable, but she was afraid that if she went back to her room, she wouldn’t return. And she and Claude had to get this done. Groaning, she rested her head on her forearms. 

Claude came into the room, candle in hand, a stack of heavy books in the other. He went to the library briefly to get some books for research. Unlike her, he took off his heavy uniform and was just wearing his undershirt now, linen and loose at his neckline. There was something so naturally alluring to how he dressed and Hilda could swear that it was never on purpose.

He placed the candle first on the table and then the books. With a huff, he looked up at Hilda from the front of the room. “Are you staring at me again?” There was a small smile on his face.

“No, I’m sleeping with my eyes open.” She muttered, actually closing her eyes. “Is this how you feel all the time?”

“Feel…?” He rubbed his eyes before taking the seat next to her, bringing some of the books with him.

“Tired.” She yawned. “Okay, tell me your ideas about how we’re gonna infiltrate Fort Merceus before I fall asleep.”

“So, we got disguises. We need a small amount of people to wear them. I’m thinking that I’ll send a letter to the fort saying reinforcements are on the way. I also want our army at our heels.”

Hilda blinked a couple times before it started to make sense. “To make it seem like the Alliance is attacking the reinforcements. Make it more believable.”

“Exactly. But I’m worried about them attacking our army.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s going to be a gamble. I’m trying to make this a contained battle within the fort.”

He thought for a little bit, leaning over the map, his index finger at his lip. After a moment he hummed into his lips. “What if I—”

“What if you, what?”

“I’m thinking of bringing my own reinforcements.” He pointed at the top of the map. “To the north.”

“What reinforcements? The Alliance can’t afford to give anymore soldiers to us.”

“I have my connections.” She noticed him smile to himself.

Hilda blew through her lips and leaned back in her chair. “That’s…a lot of uncertainty.”

“I know.” Claude sighed. “I just don’t know how else we can infiltrate the fort. It’s supposed to be impenetrable.”

“I don’t know, Claude. Maybe…” She pressed her hand to her forehead with a deep breath. “…Maybe we shouldn’t do this. This is risky as hell.”

“A frontal attack is suicide.” He looked at her. “This is our best option for victory.”

She bit her lip, meeting his eyes. “You know I can’t go this time, right?” Looking back at the map in front of them, she landed her head on the side of his arm. She leaned on him.

“Yeah.” Claude pinched the bridge of his nose. He did that when he had a headache. “Yeah, I know.”

Hilda closed her eyes. “The professor better have your back.”

“She will.” There was a smile in Claude’s voice. “Don’t worry about me.”

How could she not? Hilda tilted her head to look up at him. “If you die on me, I’ll kill you.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He chuckled and looked down at her. “Such astute advice from my aide.”

“Of course. I’m highly intelligent.” Hilda closed her eyes again. His skin was warm against her cheek, even through the linen.

Silence fell between them.

“I’m starting to get nightmares.” She said softly after a few minutes. “You would think I would start getting them earlier.”

“Like what?” No judgement came from him. Just understanding.

“I’ve started to get nightmares of Dimitri. It’s like he’s haunting me.” She felt herself shiver unconsciously as she recalled his mauled body on the muddy, bloody ground of Grounder Field. “I mean, of course they would go after him, he’s the leader. I just can’t believe he’s…”

“He deserved better.” Claude swallowed.

“Shit—” Hilda sat up with realization. “Ohmygod, I shouldn’t have brought it up. That could literally happen to _you_—” She gasped and clasped her hand on her mouth. “Ohmygod, I’m a fucking idiot, why did I say that—"

He just laughed cynically. “You think I haven’t thought about that? Why do you think I made the poison? I mean…” He sighed. She vaguely remembered she placed her vial underneath one of her breasts in her shirt. “In the heat of battle, I guess I hardly have time to swallow poison, huh? Guess if that happens, I’m fucked.”

She looked at his face. There was fear in his eyes, but he didn’t even bother hiding it on his face. She pressed her forehead against his shoulder again and reached for his hand. He took it gratefully and squeezed it.

“Claude.” She whispered. Another realization came over her. “We killed Ferdinand.”

She felt his cheek against her head. He let out a shaky breath.

Hilda fought back tears. “M-Marianne—”

He squeezed her hand tightly.

“The last thing she did was save me, if she wasn’t there, I would have _died_—” Tears spilled out of her eyes. “—I was never able to repay her.” Hilda took another breath through her tears. She wiped them away furiously as she sat up again. “At some point, I loved her, Claude.”

“Yeah?” He smiled gently at her.

“Yeah.” She looked up at the high ceiling above them, trying to keep more tears from falling down her face. “Yeah I did. I do? I don’t know.”

“What happened?” He took his hand away from hers. Maybe out of respect.

“Timing was wrong. Place was wrong. She believed in a goddess and I didn’t.” She said, sighing, bringing her feet up on the chair, and she held her legs in. “Maybe in a different universe. Where none of this happens.”

Silence hung in the air. Claude frowned and ran his hand through his hair and held it at the back of his head. “Hey, you’re better than me.”

“Huh?”

He took a deep breath. “I…killed Sylvain.” He blinked furiously.

Hilda’s eyes widened. “H-He was there?”

“Y-yeah. I mean, nothing we did as students was that serious, but I didn’t even realize it was him. I was trying to keep you on Barb and I guess he decided to try and take us down. Or maybe he was trying to join our side? He never seemed like the type to want to fight people he knew. I don’t even know. I couldn’t even see his hair because of his helmet. I didn’t even realize it was him until I shot…” Claude closed his eyes again, and Hilda caught glimpse of a tear rolling down his cheek. He shook his head. “I get nightmares too.” He was reaching out for her hand.

She slid her fingers into his and intertwined them. “When did they start?”

“Earlier. Before Teach came back to us. Hilds, this war…” He shook his head again.

Both of them fell silent, staring at the map in front of them.

“The one time I slept well was that one night.” He admitted quietly. “About a year before we met Teach again.”

His words seemed to hang in the air above them. Hilda felt very aware of how their forearms crossed as they held hands.

“Ah.” Hilda felt herself go pink. “The Alliance roundtable?”

He laughed gently. “Yeah, that one.” It was hard to tell whether he was embarrassed too in the dim light.

She raised her eyebrows at him. “What are you saying?”

“I’m not saying anything! I’m just telling the truth.” His eyes didn’t leave the map in front of them. He raised the pitch of his voice. “‘_What are you, in love with me_?’” He grinned and she saw his green eyes shift towards her.

She shoved him with her palm, which made Claude laugh with a loud shout. It echoed in the large room and down the hallway.

Claude stood. “Let’s go visit Marianne’s grave.” He twisted his torso to stretch before reaching above him. “Have you been yet?”

“No.” Hilda looked at the stack of books next to her. “I’ve…I’ve been too scared to face her.”

“I’ll go with you. C’mon.”

Holding her hand, he helped her out the chair and they walked into the dark of the halls. It was weird to hold hands for that long, but it was dark and his presence was comforting. And no one was there to see them. It almost reminded Hilda of a time five years ago. 

Soon, they were out into in the moonlight. It was a little chilly, but summer was in the air. She stuck close to Claude as they went down the steps to the graveyard. Something about it made Hilda want to pull back and run away.

Of course, Claude noticed. “Don’t run from her.” He waited for her to step down to the grass before continuing to walk. “She deserves better from you.”

He led her past the first row of tombs and right below the start of the steps was a tombstone that read _Marianne von Edmund 1162-1184. _He stepped back and she knelt right next to it, even if it hurt her wound.

“Hi, Mari.” She touched the large slab of stone that lay in front of the tombstone. She remembered how she would touch Marianne’s face, gentle and soft. How her cheeks would bunch up under her eyes as she smiled. An overwhelming feeling came over her chest. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.”

It said nothing. Claude was silent behind her.

There were plenty of things she wanted to say: thank you, I miss you, I love you. But those things weren’t meant to be heard with another party there. She would visit later. Instead, she pressed her fingertips to her mouth and placed it on the stone firmly as if her kiss could travel to the afterlife. Swallowing the rest of her tears, she looked up at Claude, who bent down and extended his hand to help her back up. She didn’t even notice that she was crying.

Now she was closer to him, she could hear he was humming. His eyes were locked onto the tombstone in front of them. It was something that was familiar to her, but she didn’t quite know why. After a few minutes, she looked up at him.

“Isn’t that the Almyrian Death March?” She said in alarm. It surprised her that he would disrespect their dead like that. “That’s the one they sing after a battle is done.”

He sighed quietly. “No, Hilda.” He took her hand again and squeezed it.

“It’s an Almyrian Eulogy Song.”

…

Hilda woke up in a cold sweat, her lungs gasping for breath, her knuckles white against her blanket. She pressed her fingers to her forehead with a small groan and forced her eyes open. It seems like Dimitri’s bloody body, his eye staring lifeless at her is burned to the back of her eyelids and she can’t stop seeing him. 

She got up slowly, sitting on her dorm bed, starting out the window. Judging where the moon was in the sky, it was probably passed midnight. She groaned into her hands.

She hadn’t been sleeping since that terrible battle. Part of her thanks whatever deity is out there that she couldn’t fight in the infiltration of Fort Merceus. She didn’t know how she would react in the heat of battle anymore.

Claude had come back victorious. Using Almyrian forces, he was able to take her idea of sneaking in and turn the tides. Another part of her wishes she could have been there to see that—the people of Alliance and Almyrians fighting together on one side. Maybe his dream could be a reality.

While everyone had gone on, she was left at the Monastery. She used this time to truly say goodbye to Marianne. She spent the whole day there, talking, laughing, and crying to her. Hilda hoped despite everyone they killed, Marianne went to a good afterlife. If anyone deserved a good afterlife, it would be her. Hilda probably drank too much wine that day, but it was cathartic. It wasn’t a surprise that Manuela had found her drunk as hell in the graveyard and brought her to her room. 

“We’ve all been there, sweetheart.” She vaguely remembered Manuela tell her that before Hilda stumbled into her room, tearstained. Manuela tucking her into bed was the last thing she remembered.

Maybe she should go visit her again tonight. She got up to go grab a cloak and was about to open the door when she heard a small “fuck” on the other side.

She froze. Who the hell could be at her door so late at night? An assassin? She reached for her axe beside her bed. But what kind of assassin would curse so damn loudly before killing someone?

She noticed the shadow under the crack of the door pacing back and forth in front of the door. Whoever, it was, they were clearly nervous. She pressed her ear to the door. She felt the door bump against her as if someone’s head was pressed against it. She heard another small “fuck” against the door. She recognized the voice.

She raised her voice. “…Claude?”

A louder “fuck” was heard behind the door before she heard a sigh. “Yeah, it’s me.”

Her mind raced as she opened the door. He stood there, in his casual clothes, hands in his pockets. He seemed surprised to see her. Weird, considering he was at _her_ door. “What the hell are you doing out here this late? You scared the shit out of me. I thought it was an assassin or something.”

“Sorry, sorry.” She couldn’t help but notice the lack of jokes. “Sorry, I just needed to see you.” He entered her room and she closed the door behind him. He looked at her axe in her hand. “Were you going to kill me?”

She hissed, trying to keep her voice down to not wake her dorm neighbors. “I thought you were an assassin, Claude!”

“Yeah, sorry, you’re right.” He sighed sheepishly and looked at her cloak. “Are you headed somewhere?”

“I couldn’t sleep. I was going to go visit Marianne.”

“Ah.” He looked down at his feet. He frowned. “Well, don’t let me keep you—"

“What are you doing here? Did you want to have sex or something?” She was already shrugging off her cloak and slipping off her nightgown.

“NO!—no, I didn’t come for that—” He spoke louder. Why was he panicking? He took a deep breath.

Hilda frowned and slipped her nightgown back over her shoulders. That was strange, although it’s not like they had sex often. The last and only time they had sex was the one night. He never appeared at her doorstep like this—not since their school days.

“What are you afraid, I would say no or something? Do you even know me?” She laughed stepping closer to him.

Something was so off about him. He just ran his fingers through his hair. Was his hand shaking? “No—I mean, I do know you, it’s just not why I came.”

“Oh, sorry to assume. Is…” Oh shit. “Is there someone else?” She suddenly felt embarrassed. She realized there was _no way_ he wasn’t with someone else at this point. “Do you have a cute girlfriend or boyfriend waiting for you in Almyra or something?” She said, crossing her arms around her chest. It didn’t seem like Claude to keep that a secret from her.

Claude looked taken aback and stared at her with wide, green eyes before letting out a snort. “No, Hilds.” He laughed, finally. “Nooo.” He said that as if it was the craziest thing he had ever heard.

She frowned and pursed her lips. The concept wasn’t _that _crazy. He was handsome, Crest-bearing, charismatic. It surprised her more that he wasn’t with anyone at all. “So…” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Why are you here?”

She had never seen him so disoriented before. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. He still looked clean-shaven, presentable, but even in the darkness, the bags under his eyes were noticeable. She stepped close to him and pressed her palm against his jawline, rubbing the hair there. He leaned into her fingertips, closing his bloodshot eyes.

“What’s wrong, Claude?”

“This is irrational and dumb.” He sighed, eyes still closed. “This is so dumb.”

“What, you visiting me in the early hours of the morning, and me almost killing you with my axe?” She laughed. “Because it is.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m talking about. I shouldn’t bother you about this, it’s so irrational.” He blew the few strands of hair that fell into his eyes in irritation before pausing and speaking again. “Can you do something for me?”

“Of course, anything. I’m your aide, or whatever.”

“Not like that.” He grumbled. “Can you hug me?”

Hilda almost threw her head back and laughed. “What? Of course!” She wrapped her arms around his torso and buried her face into his chest. Pine. It was almost intoxicating.

She felt his arms around her and he bent to bury his face in her shoulder. He took a deep breath.

They stood there a moment before she looked towards him, his arms still wrapped around her, and spoke softly in his ear. “What is this about?”

He sighed into her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. He spoke in a muffled tone. “Mmm…you know when I said I have nightmares?”

“Mmhm.” She ran her fingers through the hair at the back of his head. His hair was so soft.

“You just keep dying in them, and I never can do anything about it. I can never get there in time.” She felt his arms around her loosen so he could look down at her. “Like almost every time now. My nightmares used to be different.” He looked passed her for a second before meeting her eyes again. “Now—"

“That’s why you checked up on me?” She smirked. “Lil, ol’ me?”

“Yeah, but don’t take it the wrong way and let it go to your head.” His lips became a flat line and he flicked her nose. “You know I care about you.”

Hilda stopped herself from making a joke. She decided to take his hands that were wrapped around her waist and hold them. “Yeah, I know, Claude.”

They stood there, looking down at their hands. Who knows what he was thinking, but Hilda was cursing this damn war. In a different universe, maybe she would have been with Marianne. In a _different _different universe, maybe, just maybe, she and Claude…

Maybe in a perfect universe, she could have both.

But in _this _universe, he could die tomorrow. She could die tomorrow. Then they would be, as both of them liked to say, absolutely fucked. Completely ruined. She didn’t think her heart could take that. Imagine being in love only to watch them die. Her heart already ached at the thought of that.

Instead, she remembered the little things. How good it felt when he touched her and kissed her back that one night, how almost every meal he would give her his dessert because he hated sweets, how he was there to help her mourn, how their minds worked almost in tandem, how he would look over at her when he thought she didn’t notice, how she did the same, how they could be real with each other and not put on a mask like they did with everyone else.

And maybe, just maybe, she would die for him and his cause. That would be a noble death. Before, she never really understood why people did that.

“I promised you.” She smiled, holding his hands tighter. “I won’t die.”

“Promises are meant to be broken. Just like rules.” He stared at her seriously. “You and I, out of _everyone_ should know that.”

“Yeah, but not mine. Duh.” She laughed.

He didn’t respond.

Hilda sighed, taking a strand of hair and tucking it behind his ear. “Claude, you think too much. You’re all up in that damn, big brain of yours.”

He rolled his eyes. “This damn, big brain is also a tactician for an army against the Empire.”

“So use it, and just stay with me tonight. You said that one night helped you sleep? Then sleep here with me.”

Claude raised his eyebrows. “Is that really the best idea?” He was warning her, tiptoeing around an unspoken rule they held for one another. She wondered if she touched his cheek, whether it would feel hot.

“You’re not sleeping well alone, so yes, and no, we don’t need to fuck to sleep, you idiot.” She rolled her eyes this time and sat on the bed. “You idiot, come here.”

“I’m not worried about fucking or not fucking…” Grumbling, he crawled into the tiny bed next to her. He took off his shoes and lay down on the bed. She was closest to the wall as he turned towards her. She threw the blanket over the two of them and she laughed.

“Claude, this bed is small. You can touch me, you know.” He was giving her space.

“This is a bad idea…” He wrapped his arms around her anyway.

“I don’t see you complaining.” She wrapped her arms around him as well, an arm around his shoulders and neck. She smiled into his hairline.

She woke to his movements. His face at her shoulder was beaded with a cold sweat, his eyebrow furrowed as he clutched at the sheets behind her. Sleepily (Huh, she realized how she didn’t see Dimitri at all while she slept), she poked his cheek. “Claude.”

He still was dreaming. She could feel his teeth grinding against her collarbone. He was mumbling something.

“H-Hil…” There was panic in his voice.

“_Claude._” She patted his face.

He woke with a gasp, bewildered, looking around, and almost falling off the bed. She caught him (she sometimes forgot how strong she was) and pulled him close to her. He looked at her, blinking before sighing and burying his face in her shoulder. She felt him take a deep breath before mumbling “smell good”, which made her laugh gently into his hair.

Before she drifted off to sleep again, she wondered how she died in his dream. How fucked up was that? She would ask him later.

When she woke up again, it was because she was cold and the light poured in the from the window. She sat up and felt no one beside her. Rubbing her eyes, she could see Claude putting on his boots in the chair next to her desk which she turned into a vanity. He looked up at her. He looked younger when he was well rested. Secretly, Hilda was sad that he wasn’t there to hold her longer.

“Hey.”

She smiled at him, bringing the blankets to her body. “How did you sleep?”

“Better.” He finished tying his laces and stood up to go to her. “And you?” He ran his fingers through her hair.

“Better.” She reached for his hand. 

He held it. “I didn’t—” He took a breath. “I didn’t overstep, did I?” He almost looked as panicked as when he was dreaming. His gaze shifted away from her.

She looked up at the ceiling as she thought. “Mm…you did. But, look.” She gestured to the two of them. “We haven’t imploded and the world didn’t end.”

“Not yet anyway.” He sighed. He looked out the window. “I should go. Everyone is probably looking for me.”

She snickered. “Have fun explaining why you’re not in uniform when you’re doing the walk of shame.”

“This is hardly the walk of shame. I _only_ slept last night. I’ll see you at the meeting later.” He smiled at her softly. His eyes lingered on her before he opened the door and left.

But before he left her, she kissed his knuckles and smiled to herself.

…

Hilda sat on the floor of the Goddess Tower. She had pipe and small lit candle with her, taking puffs to help calm her nerves.

Despite Claude spending almost every night with her at this point, ever since they faced Nemesis a few days ago, she couldn’t shake her anxieties from her head. Miraculously, no one had lost their lives in that battle. Exhausted, she had quietly unwrapped his arm around her, slowly crawled out of bed, and grabbed her cloak and pipe before heading out in the early morning. 

Something inside her, despite everything that ended and that she _survived_, felt unsettled. Everything was uncertain. Was she to go back to Goneril? Continue to help at the border? Where was everyone else was going to go? She furrowed her brow and stared up at the sky. The sun was starting to rise in the east. Her mind couldn’t help but wander to Claude. What plans did he have next for Fódlan? Would their paths cross again?

Back at school, they said if you went to the goddess tower at the night of the annual ball and made a wish it would come true. Hilda snorted to herself. Maybe when she was younger, she would have believed in it: falling in love hopelessly, only worrying about legacy (not that she necessarily cared about that either), keeping your status. She wrapped herself in her cloak, sighing out into the cool, morning air. Autumn was coming. She might have humored the concept of the Goddess Tower more when she was younger, but even then, she just liked to come up here to smoke. No one would bother her and it was so high up that the smell would just get carried away by the wind.

She took the last puff from her pipe and set it down when she felt hands at her waist. She shrieked before whipping around to throw a punch at her attacker. Claude’s grinning face just barely dodged her fist.

“_CLAUDE_.” She smacked his head before turning back to look at the sunrise with a huff.

“Sorry! I couldn’t help it.” He said, grinning before taking a seat next to her. He wrapped his arms loosely around his knees.

“How did you find me?” She frowned. She never told anyone that she liked to go up here when she needed to smoke.

“You forget how much I pay attention to you.” He teased before taking a deep breath of the morning air. “I was looking for you when I woke up.” He looked over at her cautiously.

Hilda bit her lip. “Yeah, sorry. I needed…to breathe.”

“Mm.” Claude looked past his feet. She saw the worry in his eyes.

“Don’t think too much into it. I’m fine. I just needed to think.” Hilda chewed the inside of her mouth.

“About what?”

Hilda shrugged. “Like what comes next. Like how we move on.” She sighed deeply before turning to look at him. “We’ve done horrible things.”

“I know.”

“We killed our friends.” She thought about Dorothea, Sylvain, Ferdinand, Ingrid…

“I know.” Claude looked at the sky. “If I could have it my way…I wouldn’t want any of this. If we could have just _talked_, no secrets, none of that bullshit, I think we could have all worked something out and fought Nemesis together.”

She shivered through her cloak and scooted herself closer to him, leaning on his shoulder. He tilted his head so his cheek landed on her hair.

“Hilda?”

“Mm?”

“I’m going back to Almyra.”

She sat up to look at him, her eyes wide. It took her high brain a second to process what he had said. He wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“I—” She couldn’t even tell what she was feeling. “What?”

“I haven’t told anyone yet. I’m relinquishing my title of Leader of the Alliance and going back to Almyra. I have done what I can here. I need to change minds back in my home country.” He leaned back on his arms. The rising sun made everything around them seem to glow. Almost like gold.

“Who’s going to lead the Alliance then?”

“I was thinking Lorenz. He’s changed a lot.” Claude smiled to himself. “I think he would be a great leader.”

Hilda, whether she did it purposely or not, steeled her heart. “So, how long is it going to be before I see you again?”

His eyes looked at her in surprise. His lips parted as if he didn’t want to say it, but he did. “I’m…not sure.”

Her eyebrows furrowed. She felt anger first, hot in her stomach. She breathed deeply before feeling a deep sadness in her chest. She blinked away tears, looking back at the lightening sky. She laughed, and it tasted bitter in her mouth. “If it’s another four years, I’ll probably be a married woman.”

Claude didn’t respond.

She let out another short laugh. “Gods, who knows? Maybe I’ll have children. Married to some big-headed noble, trying to breed Crests into our bloodline or some shit.” The high made her already non-existent filter to disappear.

Claude snorted. “Like Holst would let that happen.”

She sighed. “Holst probably wouldn’t approve of anyone that would want to marry me.” She never really wanted to talk about that. Her future as a nobleman’s wife something she never really wanted to think about. The thought kind of made her want to throw up. Sure, she liked pretty things, but she liked those things _by herself_. “So his opinion wouldn’t matter. You know how this shit works. Us, Crest-bearing nobles are bartering tools.” She pressed her lips into a line. “Sylvain told me that when he, Dorothea, and I used to hang out. Now I really get it.”

Claude just looked at her sadly.

She looked down at her pipe. Everything inside of it was ash. What a shame. Oh gods, why the fuck was she acting like this? She hadn’t been this angry in a long time. It was like she was pushing all of this bullshit down into the crevices of her mind. She liked to pretend that any of this didn’t bother her but it _did_. As much as Holst loved her and helped her cope with all this nobility bullshit, she hated the idea that she was something to be traded and sold. Same with him. Same with all the other nobles in this damn country. There was a _reason _why she wrote to Holst so much. He saw her for who she was.

Hilda took a deep breath. She liked to keep everyone at an arm’s distance away from her. The only ones who really saw her was Claude. Maybe Marianne saw her too, but she ended it too quickly to find out for sure. She swallowed her tears.

“I’m coming with you.”

She didn’t look at him when she said it, but she could feel his eyes staring at her. “_What?_”

“I’m coming with you.” She repeated. “Who else is supposed to have your back?”

“I—” Claude look at her, confused, before grinning. “It’s going to be different from here.”

“That’s fine.” She shrugged.

“Like the culture is _way_ different. And you won’t know the language.”

“I’ll be with you, it’s fine.” She huffed and narrowed her eyes at him.

She had never seen him smile harder. His eyes smiled too. “Don’t say anything insensitive though. You’ve said plenty of bullshit and I’ve had to correct you.”

“I know better now. I’ll just let you do the talking. That’s what you usually do anyway.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“It’s going to be hotter there.” He warned. “You don’t like getting sweaty.”

“Do you want me to come, or not?” She shot back. She leaned towards him. She grinned.

“I—” He laughed. “Hilds, I do.” He looked down at her with probably the softest expression she had ever seen on his face. She had never seen that before.

She almost wanted to kiss him.

Instead, he spoke. “Do you…want to meet my parents?”

She blinked at him. “Your…parents?”

“Yeah, don’t take it the wrong way, you mentioned you were curious when I told you about them when we were students.” He shrugged. His mind was so sharp, of course he remembered those conversations.

She gasped theatrically. “Oh, Claude, isn’t it too sudden? Shouldn’t we wait after a few dates?” She started to laugh.

He laughed with her. “_Yeah_, but I don’t mind. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind meeting someone that I lo—” He bit his tongue and with wide eyes, stared at her. Kind of like a deer. How ironic.

She just smiled harder than she had ever done in her life. “Oooh, you did it. You almost said the l-word. You really almost did that.”

The sun hitting his face made it hard to tell how red his cheeks were turning, but he then laughed, covering his face in his hands. “Ah, shit.” He fell down on his back, so he was laying down next to her. “Fuck!”

She just laughed wildly at him. Her high wasn’t helping the situation be less funny. Ridiculous. All of this was crazy. Why the hell was she so happy?

Maybe she loved him too. He probably knew how she felt before she did. She wouldn’t be surprised. It was more funny how Claude—calculative, careful Claude—just let something like that slip. Maybe it _was_ planned. But she doubted it.

Grinning, she grabbed his hand from his face and helped him up to his feet. Like usual. “Let’s go tell Marianne where we’re going.”

Now that the sun was behind him, she could see how red he had turned. How endearing. Bringing her palm to his jaw to hold his face, she was suddenly hyperaware of where they were. The sun was bright over them now, and she saw the stone sparkle under their feet. Maybe the stories Dorothea told her about the Goddess Tower _were _true.

“Sure, Hilds.” He held her hand.

**Author's Note:**

> his wyvern is named barbie bc of a tweet my gf said she saw and it was so big brain i had to include it
> 
> also claude has an insane amount of capricorn placements as well he and hilda are the classic earth-heavy/air-heavy pairing and i love that
> 
> basically if you didn't catch it, claude's actions are revolved over his fear of her dying in battle.


End file.
